


sibylline

by pipecleanerFlowers



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Zexal
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-23
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-08 17:25:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3217439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pipecleanerFlowers/pseuds/pipecleanerFlowers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Yuma gets a job at the campus Starbucks, he doesn’t really expect to serve customers quite like the one that comes in every day at precisely 8:30pm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Astral, a student with muted blue hair that reminds Yuma of the sky, likes to visit the campus Starbucks every night without fail at precisely 8:30pm. The same bright pink Heartland U lanyard sticks out of the back of his jean pocket, tiny purple pearl drops hang from his earlobes. His hair’s swept up, and it looks effortless as usual. Yuma tries not to stare, but he practically floats into the Starbucks and he has to listen carefully to even hear his high-tops hit the ground.

“Hey! What can I get for you today?” Yuma asks, lamenting the fact that he still can’t quite pronounce his name, which is as ethereal as he is.

Astral silently gazes up at the menu, a long, thin finger touching his chin as he ponders over the choice. Yuma wonders why he doesn’t just order the same thing every day, being such a creature of habit and all, but Astral has never been one to order the same thing twice in a row.

“May I suggest one of our specials, like the Peppermint Hot Chocolate?” Yuma asks while a line piles up behind him. It’s nights like this that Yuma begins to regret taking the night shift alone.

Astral’s lips part in interest, and Yuma waits patiently for an answer that comes an entire moment later: “That seems fine, I’ll take a Grande of that.”

Astral hands him exact change before Yuma has even keyed in the order and he wonders if he might be psychic. When the money’s in the till, Yuma writes his name on the cup, ASTRAL. He still has doubts that it’s even truly his name, but doesn’t have time to ponder on it as he has to remember how to make the order. As he’s filling it, he notices for the millionth time that Astral’s eyes (which always seem to be studying, seeing right through everything around him) aren’t the same colour, one a warm hazel while the other reminded him of the mocha he was getting better at making. They were mesmerizing in a way, but Yuma tries his best not to stare lest he get boiling water and milk all over his hands.

“Thank you,” Astral says, oracle-like, and Yuma almost forgets to chime in with a “Have a good day!” because it takes him so off-guard (even though it happens every night, even though he’s supposed to be used to it halfway through the semester).

Astral takes a seat at one of the high seats near the windows and opens his bag to withdraw a textbook, and Yuma’s left once again at the counter with questions like “so what’s your major?” on his tongue, but he presses them back down so he can help the next customer with their order.

One day they’ll have a conversation beyond the cashier script.

 


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuma's IN TOO DEEP AND HE'S TRYING TO KEEP UP ABOVE IN HIS HEAD INSTEAAAAD OF GOING UNDER
> 
> okay I'm sorry.

“Psychology,” Astral says when he reaches the front of the line, before Yuma can say anything at all.

Yuma stares at him, confused for all of ten seconds before he snaps out of his daze, caught in a pair of hazel and mocha eyes like whirlpools. “Huh?” he asks intelligently.

“Psychology,” Astral repeats patiently, and his irises seem to pulse with a glow that Yuma finds all too entrancing. “It’s my major. You were curious, right?”

Yuma blinks and wonders if he even asked. He knows he _thought_ it. Maybe he accidentally said it aloud? “Yeah,” he admits, feeling a little odd. “I was. But I’m also curious about your order!” he says brightly, defaulting to his cashier script because there are people waiting in line and there’s (unfortunately) no time to have a conversation when there’s a line.

Astral eyes drift up toward the menu for a moment. “Why don’t you tell me?” he asks, voice a mystic melody. “What am I going to have today?”

“A…” Yuma wonders momentarily whether this is a test, “Grande Caramel Macchiato?”

“Interesting... I'll go with that.”

Yuma’s almost relieved. “Okay! That’ll be--”

Astral’s palm is already sliding the required amount across the counter. “Thank you,” he says simply before sliding over to the waiting area.

When Yuma hands him his order, Astral’s eyes catch his and their fingers brush, electric.

"Thanks again," Astral says, gaze piercing into him before he turns and walks away to his usual spot.

 _What was that all about?_ Yuma wonders, but as usual he has no time to ponder over it as the next customer is waiting.

</3

“He’s _sooo_ attractive,” Yuma groans, sitting on one of the stools and watching his best friend and coworker Kotori wash the blenders. “Like, you saw him today, it’s _unfair_. He shouldn’t be able to exist on this plane, he’s so…”

She throws the blenders upside down in the sink to dry and tries to find the nearest towel for her hands. “Well… on a scale from the dirt to the galaxy, what plane of existence do you think he should be on?” she asks, a teasing smile playing on her glossed lips.

Yuma makes a noise and buries his face in his arms on the counter. “To infinity and beyond,” he grumbles.

Kotori laughs, twirling a strand of her bright green hair around her finger. “You’re in pretty deep for this guy,” she notes, untying her apron. “Gonna go for it?”

Yuma groans again.

“Why not?”

Yuma sits back up and stares at Kotori. “Have you _seen_ me? He’s, like, _perfect_. I’m _not_.”

She rolls her eyes, the honey-hazel ones that he used to drown in until they decided they’d never work, because they liked being friends and being comfy, despite everyone else being convinced they were perfect for each other like puzzle pieces that fit on the first try.

“I can say a billion things to contradict that, but sure, if that’s how you want to see yourself,” Kotori says with a hefty shrug. “I say go for it.”

“Sure?”

“Totally!”

Yuma hides his face in his arms again. “But it’s so hard…”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahh the second update is heeere <3 hope y'all enjoyed! like I said, updates for this will be sporadic, but they WILL happen, so I hope you're looking forward to the next chapter :)


	3. Chapter 2

Astral. Astral... Yuma still can't say it right, still can't roll it off his tongue without it stumbling awkwardly over his syllabaries.

Yuma feels a little pathetic, pining after Astral when he catches glimpses of him over the espresso machines and glancing over whenever he needs to grab the whipped cream. Kotori catches him outright staring a few times, whenever it's slow and there's nothing to distract him from Astral’s ethereal presence.

Today Astral ordered a Grande Hot Chocolate after asking what Yuma’s favourite is, and it had left him flustered to say the least. Just thinking about the exchange dusts Yuma’s cheeks pink enough to match the ribbon in Kotori’s hair.

“I think that’s his way of flirting,” Kotori says, when Yuma asks if she saw what happened.

“Flirting? With _me_?” Yuma asks in total disbelief. “What would a guy like him ever want with someone like me?”

“Because you’re cute when you get flustered.”

“Kotori…” Yuma moans, covering his face with his hands. “This is _serious_.”

Kotori rolls her eyes and taps her chin in thought. “Is your kattobing useless in romance?”

“My ability to bring it to ‘em has nothing to--”

“So bring it to ‘em. Specifically, him,” Kotori says, pointing over to Astral, who’s deep in a book. “I mean, if he’s flirting with you, then you’re probably doing pretty good so far.”

Yuma thinks about this, and maybe Kotori’s right, maybe in all of his clumsiness and awkwardness, Astral was actually… _flirting_? No, no, that’s still weird to think about. Yuma feels his face heating up to a whole new level of bright tomato red and Kotori giggles at him. He buries his face in his arms on the counter.

“You suck,” he says.

<3

To be honest, Yuma just wants to get to know him. And maybe kiss his lips a little, because they look really kissable and Yuma just wants to _test_ it, no big, and Astral’s bottom lip looks a little cushy and it would probably feel nice and…

The door chimes, and Astral walks in, straight to the counter because it’s Sunday and Starbucks is slow and there’s maybe one other person other than Yuma in the building right now. And, almost thankfully, it’s not Kotori.

“Hello, Yuma,” Astral says, before Yuma can say anything.

Yuma vaguely wonders when they got to a mutual first-name basis, but then remembers that this is America and even with Astral’s monolids, he hasn’t got a shred of an accent.

“Hey,” Yuma responds, still refusing to say his name because his familiar syllabaries aren’t the alphabet.

“What am I going to have today, Yuma?”

Something about the way Astral says his name sends shivers up his spine. “Maybe…” Yuma turns to peer at the menu for a moment, “a Cinnamon Dolce Latte?”

“Right… again,” Astral murmurs, and before Yuma can think on that, he smiles at him and says, “That sounds good.”

If Yuma thought Astral was radiant before, his smile is ten times as much.

“Three seventy-five, right?”

“Y-yeah…” Yuma stumbles over the single word and Astral shoots him another smile and hands him exact change before heading over to the waiting area.

Yuma hopes to the heavens above that he isn’t as red in the face as he thinks he is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //pinches Yuma's cheeks it's okay baby <3


	4. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think you guys will like this chapter.

Today, Astral stays until closing. Usually he visits at 8:30pm and leaves at 10:00pm like clockwork, but today… Today he stays.

And as Yuma makes his rounds to the different tables, warning different couples and study groups that closing time is approaching and trying to police his accent into something vaguely American, he wonders how he’ll be able to face Astral for the first time in the two and a half hours that have passed since he ordered.

“Guess,” Astral had prompted him, mute eyes piercing into his, and Yuma could have sworn they were glowing because fluorescent lighting doesn’t do that to eyes, it just _doesn’t_.

Yuma went to suggest something, but before he could even speak, Astral parted his lips and tooks the words from Yuma’s mouth. “Green Tea Frap, right?”

“Er-- yeah. Yeah, that’s what I was…” Yuma trailed off, eyes dropping to the counter where he found his hands gripping the edge. He suddenly felt dizzy, but it wasn’t an altogether unpleasant feeling, and there’s a hint of an oncoming headache. “Ah, is that alright?” he presses on.

“It’s perfect,” Astral had replied, dropping exact change onto the counter before drifting away to the waiting area.

And now that Yuma actually has to interact with him again for an unexpected second time in the same strange night, well. He’s nervous.

Astral’s table is next, the only one he hasn’t given the ten-minute warning to, and Yuma can feel the same dizziness creeping back up on him as he approaches the table, where textbooks lay open and scattered. The light of Astral’s laptop reflects back into his eyes, glossing them over, and Yuma can tell he’s focused. He almost doesn’t want to interrupt.

“Er, excuse me?” Yuma says, steeling himself before tapping Astral on the shoulder. A shock shoots through his fingers.

Astral turns from his screen, heterochromatic eyes refocusing on Yuma. “Yes?”

“It’s almost closing time, in about ten minutes,” Yuma says, trying to repeat the same polite script he had with the rest of the late crew. “Just so you know.”

“Oh? Is it already eleven?” Astral glances at the digital clock in the corner of his screen and his brow furrows for the slightest moment before his features smooth out again. “I didn’t even notice.”

This isn’t part of the script, and Yuma fumbles for the right words again. If Astral was Kotori, this wouldn’t be so hard. “Ah, that’s alright. Just be out before eleven.”

Yuma turns to walk back to the counter, behind it like a shield from further embarrassment, but then Astral speaks again.

“Yuma?”

He freezes. “Y-yeah?”

“I’m sorry about earlier.” Astral’s brow tips, a miniscule movement that Yuma barely catches, in apology and concern. “I didn’t think there’d be side-effects.”

“It’s okay,” Yuma says, but he’s not sure what’s going on. “Uhm, what are you talking about, again?” He feels stupid for asking, stupid for not knowing what’s going on. But on the bright side, Astral’s talking to him more than he ever has and it’s soothing to hear his voice when Yuma’s fighting through a torrential headache.

“Your headache.”

_How’d he know about that?_

“There’s… a cure,” Astral continues. “If you want it to stop.”

“Is it called painkillers? I think I have some at--”

“No, it’s. Well.”

Starbucks is empty when Astral stands up and leans down to press his lips to Yuma’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLA.


	5. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their first real conversation outside of Yuma's script throws him into a whole new world.
> 
> (A new fantastic point of view~)

Astral ends up insisting on walking Yuma home, worried about his condition (whatever that means), and Yuma swears his face was probably bright red while he finished up cleaning and locking up Starbucks for the night. For most of the walk back to the dorms, his heart pounds like crazy in his chest, and he feels like he’s going to explode. If his sister could see him now… her DSLR would be full of blackmail. He lets out a sigh, trying to steady himself, and Astral pauses to peer at him.

“Are you alright? We can take a break.”

Astral’s hand catches Yuma’s and they stop in the middle of the quad, under a night sky full of stars, and Yuma honestly doesn’t know how to deal with any this at all. It feels like something out of Kotori’s shojo series.

“I’m fine!” he quickly reassures him, trying not to think about how warm Astral’s hand is in his. Astral’s concerned look softens the tiniest bit. “I’m just a little tired. It’s late, and… yeah,” he ends lamely.

“Sleep is probably best for you. Again, I’m sorry. I didn’t know it would have that effect. I hope I managed to reduce the pain.”

Yuma’s face blossoms into a whole new blush as he remembers Astral’s kiss, how warmth spread through him straight to his fingertips, and the way his headache melted away at the momentary touch. He almost wishes it lasted longer.

“Yeah, you, uhm, you did,” Yuma assures him, trying to calm down. “But, er… what is _it_ , exactly?” he finally asks, the curious nagging too much to hold back at this point. They’re halfway to his dorm, which is all the way on the other side of campus, and it’ll keep Yuma up all night if he doesn’t know by the time they get there.

Astral regards him for a moment, lips parting for a silent moment before his curious gaze turns determined. “Do you believe in oracles?”

“Oracles?” Finally, a word Yuma can say without feeling like an idiot.

“People who can read the future… and minds, if there’s a connection.” Astral looks up to the clear night sky. “Anomalies of the heart.”

“Anomalies?”

“Strong emotions, things that aren’t normal.”

Astral’s voice is so soft, like a breeze past Yuma’s ears, and he has to strain a little to hear him. Strain more to understand.

“Oracles can see things others can’t. I think you might be one.”

Yuma’s brow furrows in confusion. “Huh?”

Astral smiles, a twitch of his lips that lasts a moment that Yuma wants to keep forever. “Is Japanese easier for you?” he asks.

“Y-yeah.”

Astral’s American accent completely disappears as he easily transitions into Japanese, just for Yuma. “ _Do you believe in oracles?_ ” he repeats patiently. “ _They’re people who can read the future, and minds too if there’s a connection._ ” Astral’s English is eloquent, but hearing him in a language Yuma sorely misses is another story. He sounds beautiful. “ _And that connection can be…_ ” At this, Astral expression changes to a troubled one and Yuma wonders what’s wrong. “ _It can hurt the psyche, and I don’t want to hurt you._ ”

“ _You didn’t hurt me!_ ” Yuma says quickly. “ _I’m fine. Really!_ ”

“ _I’m glad. So, you believe in oracles?_ ”

Yuma doesn’t know what to say. “ _Are you an oracle? Did you read my mind? Do we have a connection?_ ”

Astral inclines his head the slightest bit. “ _I am. And…_ ” He pauses, as if debating. “ _I think you might be one too._ ”

“ _Why do you think that?_ ”

Astral smiles again, and Yuma thinks it could replace the sun. “ _Because you correctly guessed my order ninety-nine nights in a row._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND HERE'S THE PLOT. KIND OF.


	6. Chapter 5

When Astral opens up the door to his dorm, the sound of his twin moaning greets him.

Mist’s on Astral’s bed, with their awful boyfriend, Vector (the one who reeks of weed and doesn’t even go here), and Astral feels his stomach drop.

“Really? My bed?” he asks.

Mist giggles and Astral knows they’re drunk. And probably high. “Oh heyyy, Astral!”

Astral turns around and shuts the door behind him, not sure whether to be disgusted or disappointed. He checks the time on his phone and frowns. Nothing on campus is open unless he wants to sit in an empty caf and finish off the reading he’d been doing before…

Before he kissed Yuma.

Astral exhales, leaning back against the door, nails digging into his palms as he wonders when Mist will be done -- he’s never made a connection before, but Mist has. Did he handle it correctly? Yuma seemed fine when they reached his dorm…

Maybe…

Astral’s brow creases. There’s no use in worrying. Kisses are the most effective way to deal with the physical strain caused by oracle connections, he made the right choice, Yuma’s probably fast asleep by now to sleep off any lingering pains. It’s fine. It has to be.

He slips his phone back into his back pocket, wondering where to go now that his bed has been all but completely contaminated. Not that he knows anyone. Except Yuma. Astral faintly remembers an old text-log from Mist, telling him to stop being such a depressing recluse.

(It’s a hard habit to break when he’s seen where Mist’s been.)

The sound of Mist’s orgasm breaks the silence in the hallway and Astral decides that he’s sleeping on the floor tonight. There’s no one to rescue him from this fate. (He resolves to maybe make some friends just for this purpose.)

When Vector yanks the door open, he leers at Astral. His bright red shock of hair is in more of a disarray that it usually is, and a ratty leather jacket hangs over his bare shoulders.

“One day you should join us,” he says, before pushing past. “It’d be hot, with twins…" Vector turns and puts a hand against Astral’s chest. “I heard you’re hiding some big ones.”

Astral swipes his hand away. “Fuck off," he snaps, stepping back. "And stop doing it on my bed.”

“It’s called  _sex_ ,” he drawls, cackling as he walks away. “And you look like you need some in your life.”

Astral turns to Mist, who’s still on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

“I can’t believe you’re dating him,” he mutters, loud enough for Vector to hear (even though he might not even care), as he steps inside and slams the door shut.

Mist just giggles some more. “Have you  _seen_  him though?”

“He wears leather jackets with sweatpants.”

“It’s an acquired aesthetic.”

"He's a stoner and has no future."

"I want to watch him crash and burn like I saw."

Astral rolls his eyes, but in some twisted way it kind of makes him feel better. Whatever dark future Mist saw for him. "Of course you do," he finally says as he digs through their closet to find the extra bedding and pillows. “Do I even want to tell you about what happened today?"

"I don't know, do you?"

"With the cute barista..."

Mist sits up suddenly, glazed eyes attempting to focus. “What happened?” they ask. “Tell me!”

Astral sighs. “Maybe when you’re sober.”

“No, no, I swear I’ll--”

“I made a connection.”

Mist gasps. “Really? You actually managed to make one?”

Astral hides a smile as he piles up blankets on the floor. “Yeah. With the cute barista. He’s been reading my orders.”

“Just know that if my ass wasn’t so sore I’d be across this room hugging you right now,” Mist says proudly.

“Wow, thanks.”

“I’m being really heartfelt right now!”

“You still did it on my bed.”

“It’s called  _sex_ , stop being such a prude.”

“Stop doing it on my bed."

“Promise.”

“Now keep it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gonna try something new with narrative, so the next couple chaps will be in Astral's POV :)

**Author's Note:**

> Astral is beautiful and it hurts.
> 
> Also! Updates will be sporadic and random because I'm focusing most of my attention on writing and hopefully finishing The Rook at the moment, but I hope you'll bear with me because I have exciting plans for this fic!


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